Rigon family comes down from the Black Forest, near
My father, Riccardo (16.03.1895), was a farmer and my mother, Monica Italia (16.01.1901), was an Elementary School teacher. They married on 8th May 1923, and they had the first child, Giovanni-Giuseppe, on 1924, who died at his birth. After came Marino, John, the twins Joseph and Louis (Louis died after few month from the birth day), Francis, Maria Luisa, Annunziata, Louis, Teresa. We were a numerous and a happy family, even if in the middle of some difficulties.
My father had to work hardly in the farm and my mother full busy with many children and the duty of the teaching in the school.
Our father was farmer, who studied up to class 3; our mother was a teacher and she taught for forty years. It seems a strange thing how one almost illiterate person, as our father was, could married a learned girl, but they loved so much each other that they lived together a happy and fruitful live, if we look to they spiritual and Christian life, and if we look at their children life results; and they lived in a wonderful understanding. Our father had a great dill of exuberance and a large human broadmindedness equipped by a deep faith, above all in Christ, whose Passion were interpreted by him in 1930 year s in the Villaverla village theatre. He had also some artistic talents, as a good voice and time by time he sang some opera songs. He sang also before the invited people in his wedding gathering. Our aunt
I forget to say that our father, during the World First War, he became an aircraft pilot.
Our father was also e beautiful person. Every person, I used to meet asking me the name of my father, they broke into:" How beautiful is your father!" And also commented: "This boy is the son of the Lord!" As my father in the Passion of the Lord, took the role of our Lord, so the people of Villaverla used to tell that we, his children, were the Son of the Lord.
Our mother was a real teacher and a good educator and she loved very much the discipline. Fr. Francesco Villa, who used to visit time by time our family, he used to tell me: "I know why in our community you can keep easily the rules and regulations; there is more discipline you your family than in our religious houses!"
Our mother had a good hand in painting. In the granary under the roof of our house, still a small boy, I found some water paints of our mother. I used to go there and time by time to contemplate those pictures. It created into my heart a great desire to be able to paint as my mother used to paint. And I thinks that those picture were the starting points of our future work in the field of the arts, especially for Joseph, our brother, and I myself.
These water picture now they are here and there in the home of our sisters and brothers.
Our father used to tell us that our mother was the best mother of the world: "You cannot have a best mother as your mother!"
My mother cherished a plan for her children: one doctor, one in the bank as our uncle John, one engineer, and so on. But the plan of God and the premature death of our father broke down all her ideals. But in the end of her life she was happy for we her children realized in our lives, and how the Providence of God guided our family.
Even now we wander how our mother, after the death of our father, could push on all our big family. We do not find praise for her in this world. I this, anly to praise her is to fade her image. We should only to look at her and to be astonished of what she did for us.
Our father and mother were gifted by the nature and by the grace of God.
We children were busy most of the time in playing and studying and some time helping our father in the farm, even if we were small children; and may times making some excursion in our beautiful orchard in front of our home, with many kinds of fruits.
Our mother, being a teacher, could keep us in discipline, but also giving us a good education, telling stories, making jokes, remembering us proverbs and sayings full of wisdom. Really father and mother educated us to be, first good Christian and after polite and to respect every body. A particular attention they used to keep for the poor people. The first years of my life were years of big depression and many mendicants use to come, on Tuesday and Saturday, for help - and time by time, especially some respected men, came in the night in the back of our house to get something to eat. Our parents never refused help to anybody. They really felt for the poor.
This was the atmosphere in which our family was born and lived in: made all of small and little things, but they was, even if human things, our first spiritual food, united to the material one; this food made us men.
Yes, our father was a farmer and our mother a teacher; the first has taught us how to till the land and to see and to learn from the nature; the second one has taught us to cultivate the intellect and to look the things above the materials thing, especially after the death of our father; and both how thw life is wonderful and a miracle. Our mother told us that our family itself was e miracle.
The most difficult task of their education were for me. Even back from
Really I was an untamable boy, always in movement, that my class 3 teacher. Master Moro, used to tell me that I resolved the problem of the perpetual movement. And moreover I was able to break many things. How many beautiful things had my father, which I broke down: his mandolin, the diapason, etc.
Once, our uncle Ninin Masetto, came with his rule to repair something in our house. Seeing that I was handling the rule he told me: "Do not touch! You are able to break it!" I had already broke it!
And how many thing also I broke and how many hens and ducks I killed with my stones. I remember especially one old lady near our house, Catina Balardin. Really a saintly lady. In the pond on the road in the back of our house once I use to pull some stones, as a shooting competition, towards small ducks. I do not know how many I killed of them. My mother came to know and keep me in my ear she brought me to poor Catina. Catina loved me and, even after I killed some of her ducks, she excused me before my mother, who was standing there with money in hand to pay the price of the ducks.
I cannot account how many times I made troubles with my friends and I fought with them. Many times I created hard time for my parents and they had to suffer some shame for me.
And my poor cousin Mary, daughter of uncle Romolo and ant Prassede, who lived in the same our house, how much had to keep patience with me. When after ten years of